Multiple Personalities
by headupheelsdown
Summary: When in Vegas, Brennan and Booth take a new risk as Tony and Roxy. Will their gamble pay off? Set during 2.08 "The Woman in the Sand". B&B lovin'.


**A/N: Too many steamy summer novels and this is where my mind goes. Smutty B &B. Starting from season two's The Woman in the Sand.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, that why this scene is only in my imagination and your screen in the form of fanfiction.**

Brennan walked back into the hotel room as Booth exited the bathroom. The black tank top he was wearing showed the beginnings of bruises on his skin of his shoulders. "I got ice," she said, setting down the small bucket on the table. "Cooling the blood vessels lessens the amount of blood that pools in surrounding tissues, making the bruises less apparent."

"And here I thought the steak thing was just to look cool." Booth leaned back against the pillows, groaning dramatically. He had wanted to the minute they got back from the fight, but he would have left bloodstains on the white fabric. The give of the mattress soothed his sore muscles instantly.

"Raw meat has a high possibility of bacteria. Frozen vegetables are a more appropriate solution." She fetched a washcloth from the bathroom, Brennan placed a few ice cubes inside, creating a cold compress. She sat on the bed beside Booth and applied it to a growing lump near his temple. He inhaled sharply and flinched, but let her do it.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me how to win?" Booth may have won the match as well as them solving the case, but his body definitely felt like it was on the losing side.

"I had to analyze his movements first. Most of those movements involved him hitting you," she answered. Booth thought he saw traces of a smirk on her lips, but she looked away. "We also wanted to keep our cover intact, so you needed to perform within acceptable parameters."

"I hope it was a good show. If only that didn't involve getting the shit beaten out of me." He had seen his reflection after getting out of the shower, and the water didn't wash off enough. A goose egg on his head, split lip, and what was surely to be a black eye in the morning.

"You won," Brennan said as if that would make it hurt less. She removed the compress from his temple and put it over his left eye. "Hold this." He did as he was told.

With his uncovered eye, he watched her reach into her suitcase for a small red first aid bag. He was not surprised that she brought one everywhere. She returned to her spot beside him and reached for his free hand. Booth winced when she rubbed his damaged knuckles with alcohol wipes, and she offered a small, apologetic smile.

"You have been out of the army for quite some time. However, your boxing skills were still quite good." Brennan applied antibiotic ointment and bandages. She let go of his hand, and he switched how he was holding the compress to offer his other hand.

Booth chuckled, and the motion made his side twinge. Either she was asking if he worked out, or she was paying him a compliment. It was sometimes hard to tell with her. He decided to take it as a compliment. "Thanks, Bones."

She looked up from her work bandaging his hand to meet his eyes. Brennan's cheeks were slightly flushed, and Booth gathered that he had guessed correctly. She had been complimenting him. She was impressed. The realization made him grin, bringing his attention to the split in his lip. It caught Brennan's attention as well. She finished bandaging his hand quickly and took the compress from him.

Booth watched her move through the room. She dumped the old ice in the bathroom, then came back to the ice bucket. She was padding around barefoot, having taken off her heels the second they got back to the room. Brennan was too worried about his injuries to do much else. She was still in that killer red dress, her makeup smeared but mostly intact. He loved her hair, the curls had fell, leaving lazy waves in their place. It made him want to touch her auburn locks.

She came back with a fresh compress, scooting close beside him to press it lightly to the split in his lip. This time, he didn't flinch or pull away. He barely felt the cold. Brennan was so close to him. Her ice blue eyes were so much more complex up close, her iris darkening as the color approached her pupil. He could feel her breath on his face and smell her perfume. It was different than her usual scent, not floral, more earthy. She must have used something different to help her get into the character of Roxy. The fact that she had thought out her undercover persona to the details of perfume fit right in with his Bones.

This entire trip had been full of surprises. Admittedly, he was nervous about how she would act undercover. He didn't know if she was capable of turning her brain power down a notch. Or, at least not using her brain power out loud. He was certain she was not capable of just turning it off. It was a part of who she was. Now he knew there was also a part of her that could take on the personality of a silent film star, even nailing the perfectly imagined voice. Other parts of her had also been revealed, thanks to his dress choices. Her proximity and the deep vee of the dress gave him a view of some of those parts of her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the removal of the compress. At first, he thought he had been caught looking lower than her eyes. But, she was just looking at his busted lip. She caught his chin with her thumb, turning his face to better check his multiple wounds. "I think you will have a periorbital hematoma in the morning," she said, pointing to the bruise forming around his eye. She put the compress on the nightstand, but did not leave his side.

He shrugged off her concern. "Chicks dig it."

Brennan's brows furrowed. "I don't know what that means."

Her catchphrase didn't ring true this time. Booth shook his head. "After today, I'm starting to think you understand a lot more than you say you do."

The confused look did not leave her face. "What do you mean?"

He almost laughed. Did she not realize how different she had been on this trip? The way she talked, the way she had been practically hanging off of him at the boxing club, the way she dressed was so far from the scientific, scrupulous woman he spent most days with. She had even pulled a wad of cash from her bra for heaven's sake. He knew Brennan. But, he didn't know this part of her. "Roxy."

"I told you that I could go undercover," she said. Brennan spoke with conviction, but he didn't think he was fully understanding.

"You knocked it out of the park! You didn't just get that from watching old silent films." He was used to Brennan being an overachiever, but it was like she had no limits. This was an area where he did not expect her to succeed, but she had. It looked effortless. She looked like a newborn calf at first with the high heels, but even that only lasted for about an hour.

Her cheeks flushed and she smiled at his words. "I'm an anthropologist. I study cultures. It's not a far reach to replicate parts of a culture myself. Simple imitation. You said as much in the car."

She made it sound so easy. "Nope. I don't think that's it." His Bones was coming back to him, and he noticed the shift. "Roxy is inside of you."

"You think that I have multiple personalities?" she asked. Booth shook his head. She was too literal, as always. "Oh, you're being metaphorical."

Now they were on the same page. "You can't just pull that from thin air." There was no way. She must have been hiding it before. Hiding this sensual, arousing personality behind facts and evidence. Why? Maybe she didn't want him to see. That possibility opened even more questions. Brennan may be a private person, but she was not the deceitful type. She was honest to a fault, and not manipulative.

"I will admit, I did use my right brain much more than normal." Logical reasoning was how she solved most of her problems; it was her comfort zone. "Although, I do not think that means I have a salacious sugar momma inside of me," she joked.

The men at the boxing club thought she was. Her description of Roxy was correct. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch for the same to apply to Bones. "You've got the money from your books, and you're hot."

"You thought I was hot?" She smiled and let out a little chuckle, but he could see the wavering uncertainty behind her eyes.

Booth battled internally. He couldn't take the words back. There was no point in lying to her. She had to notice what effect she had on men, the effect she had on him. She may have touched him more this case than any other physical contact they had before combined, but he enjoyed every last bit of it. He even smacked her ass. He couldn't lie now. When he zipped her black dress and discovered she was braless, he had said as much. "Yes."

She nodded. "As Roxy?" The joking tone in her voice was gone, and she had the same look on her face as when she conducted an experiment.

This was his out. She had given it to him on purpose. He could qualify his answer, make it to where they weren't going to far over the line as partners. Tony and Roxy were not Booth and Brennan. She was hot all the time. Hot wasn't even the right word. Beautiful. Sexy. Stunning. All the time. But, he couldn't say that and ever go back. He took the easy way out. "Yes."

"What else?" Her voice was small, barely there. She repeated herself more strongly. "What else did you think of Roxy?" Brennan leaned towards him, anticipating his answer. She was flirting, alluring him. Before this trip, he would have dismissed it as curiosity.

"I think," he started, but realized that he couldn't quite think. The woman in front of him was distracting. He tried to focus on her eyes, but his gaze flickered to her lips. There was still some cherry red lipstick painted on them. Booth swallowed hard and tried again. "I think that I'd like to know her better."

She looked pleased. "As Tony?"

He watched her form the words with her mouth. This case had forced him into so many enticing situations. The thrill of fighting, the sound of the winning at the slots, the urge to place a bet surrounded him. The casino was just a short walk away right now. He resisted it all. His thoughts were a never ending stream of deterrents for the last two days. It was wearing him thin.

He couldn't bring himself to do it again.

"Yes," he breathed. His eyes found her lips and then they descended upon his. Her kiss was soft, barely there. Just a brush of lips, it was a connection that only served to lure him further. She caressed his lips again before deepening the kiss, leaning in closer. From her position at his side, her press connected with his bruised abdomen. Booth broke the kiss, inhaling sharply.

Brennan pulled away quickly with an apology. He reached out for her, not wanting her to stray too far. "C'mere," he said, coaxing her back towards him. Booth placed his hands on her hips, gripping her dress with his fingers to push it upwards. She followed the pressure of his left hand, moving to straddle him. Her weight settled on his uninjured thighs.

She swiped her thumb over the split in his lip, asking silently if it still hurt. He answered with a small shake of his head, and she took the permission to reconnect their lips. She was careful, but no longer teasing. Brennan swept her tongue into his mouth, dancing openly. Her hand wound into his hair, carefully avoiding his injuries.

Booth gave into her quickly, melting at her touches. Maybe it was his battered body doing the talking, but he was more than happy to let her lead. When she ground her hips into his, he gripped her hips harshly, hoping she would do it again. She obliged, gyrating against the strain in his boxers.

He almost called her name in need. "Roxy," he groaned, reminding himself of their arrangement. Gathering the hem of her red dress into his hands, he brought it upwards. She disentangled her hands from his hair, raising them over her head so he could remove the garment.

Brennan- rather, Roxy, was now only clad in a black lace bra and panty on his lap. The color stood out against her ivory skin, drawing his gaze in a way that was irresistible. He ducked his head to her chest, kissing the exposed skin at the top of her breasts. She curved into his ministrations, bowing where his hand rested on her lower back. His other hand was busy releasing the clasp of her bra, wanting to expose more of her supple skin. When her bra fell away, he was rewarded with the full view of what had been teasing him all weekend. He captured one breast with his hand, rolling her pink nipple between his fingers. She gasped when he caught its match with his mouth. He laved her nipple, nibbling tenderly, eliciting small sounds of pleasure from his partner. Mirroring his actions, he made sure that both of her breasts got equal attention.

Brennan began playing dirty, running her hands through his hair and rolling her hips into his as he worshipped her chest. His erection pressed against her center, still blocked by layers of fabric. Brimming with desire, she panted into his ear. "Tony the tiger, huh?" she said, her voice low and breathy, "Show me." She punctuated her sentence by biting his earlobe.

Booth tightened his arm around her waist and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Brennan, realizing his intention, wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles. He stood up, bringing her with him. His large hands tangled in her hair, bringing her close for a searing kiss that almost reopened the split in his lip. Booth placed her on the bed, hovering over her as she unlocked her ankles. She clawed at his black shirt, and he helped her remove it. When he did, she immediately traced his growing bruises with her fingertips.

"They don't hurt. I barely feel them right now, sweetheart," he said, cradling her face before kissing her again. It was the truth. Every neuron in his body was attuned to her, the way she felt and where she touched him. Nothing could be spared to deal with bruises or pain, other than the growing ache in his shorts.

She smiled sweetly, pleased with his answer. Booth kissed his way down from her mouth, blazing a trail from her jaw to her throat, following her sternum to the dip of her belly button. He stopped when he reached the lace of her panties, breathing over where she wanted him most. She expressed her desire, reaching for his head to direct him lower. He wound his fingers around her wrist, placing her hand back at her side.

"Moxie Roxy," he mumbled, chuckling. Booth rubbed his thumb over the fabric, finding her clit underneath with ease. Her hips bucked wildly, and she whined in protest of the cloth. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, sliding the black lace down her legs until it hit the floor. She was presented to him, fully naked and radiating with need. He placed his thumb back on her bundle of nerves, enjoying the whimpers she made.

"More," she said, "I need more, Tony." He couldn't deny her wishes. Booth kissed her inner thigh, his nostrils filling with her scent. He ventured a taste, and she gripped the sheets violently. His fingers teased her opening, entering slowly. Continuing his work, he watched her hands, knowing that when she clenched her fists it meant he found the right spot. She loved pressure, be it his tongue sucking her clit or his fingers pressed against her walls. Her hips lifted off of the bed when she climaxed.

He waited for her to come back down, listening to her ragged breathing. Crawling up her body, he laid beside her. She turned onto her side to face him, her expression still full of euphoria. He grinned at the sight of his handiwork. Brennan touched his shoulder, pushing lightly until he laid flat on his back. She looked at him with examining eyes, and for a second he felt like one of her skeletons. But, this wasn't Brennan. This was Roxy.

She traced a bruise on his abdomen with a fingertip, then kissed it. Every bruise on his body that was visible got the same treatment. Healing kisses. He closed his eyes, the tender skin soaking up the attention. When she kissed his skin just above his boxers, he couldn't keep his hips still. She took advantage of the movement, rolling his boxers off. His freed member stood at attention, and she grasped it, stroking him slowly.

"Please," he said, unashamed to be begging her already. He couldn't take any more. She released him from her grasp. Booth quickly told her about the condom in his wallet, and she retrieved it from the counter. He rolled it on swiftly. Before he could move she was straddling him. Reaching between them, she slid his tip along her wet folds before lining him up with her entrance. Booth's eyes felt like they rolled into the back of his head as she slid down onto him, enveloping him. She was so warm, squeezing him delightfully. He grasped her hips as she began to move. She supported herself with two hands on his bare chest, and he moved one of her hands a little when she was on one of his forming bruises. He didn't mind the feeling, the sight of her riding him erasing any discomfort.

His grip on her hips tightened as her pace quickened. She was making soft pleasured sounds, and those increased in volume as well. Booth knew she was close, and moved a hand from its place on her hip to squeeze her nipple. She gasped, grinding harder against their point of fusion. When she fluttered around him, crying out, it pushed him over the edge soon thereafter. She collapsed onto his chest, rolling off of him when she remembered his injuries. He wrapped an arm around her, tucking her to his side until they could breathe again.

"Damn," he said. He felt her nodding in agreement against his side. They basked, Booth drawing shapes on her shoulder with his fingers. The silence stretched, but it was not uncomfortable. The sound of her breathing and the hum of the mini fridge were beginning to lull him to sleep. His eyes drifted closed.

When he woke in the morning, his arms were empty. If it wasn't for her scent still lingering on the sheets, he could have convinced himself it was all a dream. Plus, he could hear the shower running. Booth sat up and scrubbed at his face to wake up. The bruises on his face made him regret the action immediately.

The pipes squeaked as the water shut off. He found his boxers and pulled them on. After some rustling, Brennan appeared, towel wrapped securely around her body and her wet hair falling to her shoulders. She smiled at him.

Booth walked to her slowly, his muscles protesting at the movement. "Mornin'." He went to give her a kiss, but she turned her head at the last second, causing his lips to contact her cheek. It stung, but their time was up.

"Booth," she said, putting a hand on his bare chest. He stepped back quickly, as if he could physically correct his overstep. However, she followed his movement, bringing her hand to his chest and abdomen. She hovered just over his skin, not contacting the damaged, purple skin. Booth looked down, and the bruises covered most of his stomach and several on his chest. Brennan circled him, and he knew she would see a bruise over his right kidney. He felt that one.

"Before we get on the plane, we need to pick up some cold packs. The extended sedentary time with exacerbate your injuries." She spoke clinically, without traces of Roxy's accent or verbage. Brennan was back.

He agreed with her, then stepped around to enter the bathroom, looking in the mirror. It was easy for her to revert back to herself. She erased all physical evidence, but the shiner over his eye made him still feel like Tony, a newlywed in Vegas with money to burn. It would be easier soon. In D.C., they would be back to Booth and Brennan, solving crimes with his Bones.

 **A/N: I'm not marking this complete just yet, even though I don't need another WIP. I am tempted to spice up a couple other scenes from the early seasons. Why resist when they could just be Tony and Roxy? If you'd read that, drop a review. Thanks for reading.**


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